


virtual sex

by thunderylee



Category: Japanese Actor RPF, KAT-TUN (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-19
Updated: 2011-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-27 08:52:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12578132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Kink: virtual reality.





	virtual sex

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck.

It’s not the first time Kame’s been told he looks like a girl, but it’s the first time he actively agrees. The animated face staring back at him looks feminine – moreso than usual – and Kame just shrugs as he adjusts the headset. The character looking back at him adjusts his (hers?) as well, much more daintily.

“Oh, I programmed you in as a female,” Shirota’s voice sounds apologetic through the tiny speakers in Kame’s ears. “That would be why.”

“Asshole,” Kame mutters, and Shirota bursts out laughing. “What’s so funny?”

“Watching you as a girl call me an asshole is _hysterical_.” Shirota waves at him from across the street, looking like a giant blond Frankenstein standing next to little tanned Kameko, and Kame wonders if the machine can tell that he’s glaring at the other man. The headsets covers their eyes, but Kameko puts her hands on her hips and Kame’s impressed with his generation’s technology.

“This was your idea,” Kame reminds him. “Since I can’t get a vacation to go to Spain, you’re going to show it to me virtually. I don’t care if you made me a girl for your own weird perversions.”

“Aren’t you curious?” Shirota asks, and something in his voice makes Kame shiver. Kameko just looks like she’s startled, and the only thing Kame is curious about is exactly how intricate these sensors hooked up to him are. “I mean,” Shirota goes on, “you’re a girl like this.”

“No thanks to you,” Kame shoots back. “Pervert.”

“It was an accident,” Shirota says evenly, not even trying to lie. “Whatever, this just proves your complete disinterest in girls like we all suspected. Let’s go.”

“Hey, wait.” Kame reaches for his wrist to stop him, and he pauses at the strangest feeling of holding something that isn’t there. In the real world, Shirota’s in the other room. “What do you mean ‘like we all suspected’?”

“Oh, Kame,” Shirota says, his animated blond hair whooshing from side to side as he shakes his head in exasperation. “You’re so _obvious_. Why you don’t just come out and save yourself the isolation is beyond me. We won’t judge you – we’re your _friends_.”

Kame blinks, his computer-generated female counterpart folding her arms when he does. “Just because I’m not interested in myself as a girl, you think I’m gay?”

“Prove it, then,” Shirota says firmly as the background changes around them. Now they’re in a heavily populated area of Barcelona, hoards of animated people rushing each way and paying no mind to the two men who suddenly appeared in their city. “You’re an exhibitionist, right?” Shirota adds, casually like it’s an appropriate topic of conversation. “Strip. Right here in front of all these people that don’t really exist.”

“A performer and an exhibitionist are not the same thing,” Kame snaps at him, but he reaches for the hem of his shirt and pulls it over his head anyway. It gets tangled in the headset, and the connection fizzles for a second until Kame resituates it.

When he can see again, at least in the virtual world, Shirota’s lips are parted a little, his tongue darting out to wet them. He looks a bit like a dog who sees something that looks particularly tasty, minus the excessive panting. Although now that he’s thinking about it, he wouldn’t mind hearing that in his ears in that voice.

Kame can’t see himself now that the background has changed, but he doesn’t have to; he looks down and sees two perky breasts staring back at him, tiny nipples just like his own forming erect nubs in the cool air. He feels it for real, his spine arching at the stimulation like he’s not just sitting in his own room with his shirt off.

“I don’t get it,” he says slowly, making quick work of his belt and watching intently as his pants fall to the floor. He’s a girl down there, too, even though he is very aware of his hardening boy part.

“It’s psychological,” Shirota explains, his voice dropping about two octaves and Kame’s hips roll a little from the effect it has on his body. “The machine isn’t picking up on anything that isn’t real. Just roll with it.”

“ _Roll_ with it?” Kame repeats, half angry and half crazy aroused. “I’m standing here as a naked _girl_ and somehow I, as a _man_ , am inexplicably turned on.”

Shirota’s mouth curves into a grin, a creepy one that has Kame even more on edge as he approaches him. “Remember, this isn’t real,” he says, then his big hands reach out to touch Kame’s chest.

It’s not real, Kame knows it. In reality, he’s alone, his comforter soft under his butt, his hands on his knees, but in his mind he’s standing in Barcelona, Shirota’s hands on his breasts and he can _feel_ it, like it’s physically happening. Like he actually has them, although he doesn’t mind it as a man either. Being so small makes them more sensitive, he reasons.

There’s no room for his reasoning here, he quickly learns as Shirota pulls him closer and presses his mouth to Kame’s neck, a pinch and a wet warmth simulating biting and sucking. It’s not real, there’s absolutely nothing real about it, but it definitely _feels_ real.

“Shirota…” he starts to say, but it fizzles out into a soft moan as the pressure moves to his bare sides and down his hips, like Shirota’s hands are sliding down his body.

“Roll with it,” Shirota says again, and right now Kame will do whatever he says as long as he keeps virtually touching him.

Shirota’s fingers go right between his legs, hoisting one of his thighs up on his arm, and Kame throws his head back at the feeling of something entering him. Without confirming or denying Shirota’s earlier accusation, this may not be the first time Kame’s experimented back there, although it’s much different when it isn’t really happening. Much more comfortable.

“Fuck,” Shirota says, and Kame’s body contracts on impulse. “I wonder if you’re this tight in real life.”

_Come in here and find out_ is on the tip of his tongue, but Kame’s breath is stolen by his tension as something inside him is flipped like a switch and he moans out loud, loud enough to cause static and Shirota grunts as he opens his pants one-handed.

Kame bats it away and does it himself, fueled by arousal and his own curiosity. His fingertips are prickled with warmth as he moves down, his path blocked by Shirota’s cock that his nerves report as hard and heavy.

Then Shirota moans, a delicious noise, and Kame strokes him properly. The pressure inside him quickens, which Kame matches with his own actions, and there’s no question of plausibility when Shirota picks him up right there in the middle of the square and wraps Kame’s legs around his waist.

Kame doesn’t know what’s going on anymore, physically anyway. He feels like they’re having sex, the intensity of whatever’s stimulating his mind confusing his nerves into reacting. It’s so strong that he can’t fight it, indescribable surges of energy coursing through his body, heightened by Shirota’s hot voice.

_Now_ he’s panting, groaning and hissing nonsense, and there’s so much pressure building up inside Kame that he thinks he could come like this, his body arching and bucking like he’s really being touched. If he had enough coherence to bring his hand to his aching cock, he would, but he can’t control anything right now, his whole being completely overcome by the mental stimulation.

“Oh fuck,” Kame gasps, panic gripping him as the unbelievable prepares to happen. “I’m gonna come.”

“Me too,” Shirota grunts, and it’s enough to push Kame over the edge. It feels like his mind explodes in orgasm along with his body, so intense that he thinks he loses a couple seconds as he returns to his virtual reality.

He’s still catching his breath when Shirota’s character grins at him. “Ready for the tour now?”

“Fuck Spain,” Kame hisses, and the connection cuts out. The headset feels heavier than normal as he pushes it off, shaking out his hair and blinking open his eyes to focus on the white ceiling of his room.

He’s still staring when Shirota barges in through the door, crossing the room without hesitation and pouncing on Kame, who just curls underneath him as they finally make contact for real. Shirota fuses their mouth together, kissing him so hard that it takes him even higher, and Kame smiles as their noses bump.

“This is where you say that Spain is going to fuck me instead,” Kame says, and Shirota laughs.

“I like you better as a boy,” is all Shirota says, and Kame kisses him again.


End file.
